


Why, Rhaegar?

by Frenchcroatiansquid



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Complicated Relationships, Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Femdom, Heavy BDSM, Multi, Payback, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, sadistic!Elia, tw: torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-02 22:39:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11518968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frenchcroatiansquid/pseuds/Frenchcroatiansquid
Summary: Valar-morekinksplease Prompt (Round 12): Elia/Rhaegar, femdom, They may have agreed to bring the Stark girl into their marriage, but the Princess' public humiliation was not part of the plan. Elia chastises her husband after the Harrenhal tourney. (Gimme allllll the femdom. Don't hold back.)





	1. Elia

The princess stood leaning against the crenellated black walls atop the Stone Drum Tower, sipping a cup of hot lemon water and watching the waves crash against the rocks down below. Her morning sickness was finally getting better, but the smell of sulfur in the air always made her dizzy. It did nothing to improve her mood.

She had followed Rhaegar to this damp wasteland on the assumption that their stay would only be temporary. But while the prince had returned to court frequently, she had been bedridden after her daughter's birth, unable to leave the high black walls of the castle.

Dragonstone was her prison, a dark place full of dark Valyrian magic. Even the wolf girl could sense it. She had seen it on Lyanna's face the moment the girl had set foot in her new home.

“We'll return to King's Landing once the dust has settled,” Elia had reassured her. Though when exactly that would be she didn't know. _Rhaegar stirred up more than just a little dust when he crowned her queen of love and beauty_.

When she thought of the moment he had placed the blue winter roses in her lap, part of her wanted to scream and slap him. He had _smirked_ when he'd caught a glimpse of her face at the tourney. It still turned her stomach thinking of how much he had enjoyed her public humiliation. _Why, Rhaegar, why?_

It was _her_ who had first suggested bringing Lyanna into their marriage. She had known from the moment she had seen her defend her father's bannerman that she wanted to spend more time with this fierce Northern girl. Rhaegar had been reluctant at first but consented after he'd seen her in her armor riding against the other knights.

“Anything to get me away from Robert,” Lyanna had said when the two of them had approached her. “I'll write to my family as soon as I'm safely in Dragonstone. They'll understand, and if they don't, they're not worth my time.” With that, the matter was settled. Or so Elia had thought.

That was before Rhaegar had betrayed her. The public spectacle was one thing, but her husband – the man who had loved and worshiped her since he was a little boy – openly choosing another woman over her hurt more than she cared to admit to herself. _Why, Rhaegar, why?_

“Elia!” The wolf girl's wide smile was so contagious, it instantly lightened her mood.

“You're awake. How do you like your new home by daylight?”

Lyanna climbed on top of the thick castle wall, her eyes wandering over the strange creatures that formed parts of the castle, the smoky mountains towering above them, the misty seas below. “I like the ocean.” She said with a shrug. “Can you swim in there?”

Elia laughed. “Best not. The currents are too powerful, they'd sweep you out to sea.”

The wolf girl jumped down from the wall, landing securely on her feet like a cat. “Where's Rhaegar? I meant to speak to both of you last night, but I couldn't find you...”

 _You won't see him for a while. He has things to answer for_. “He's busy sending ravens, trying to smooth things out with Robert and your father.” She hated lying to the girl, but she wasn't sure Lyanna was ready to learn about _this_ particular aspect of their marriage.

“If there's anything I can do to make things right...”

“There's nothing for you to make right. This wasn't your fault. You didn't know Rhaegar was planning to do this. I have no idea what got into him.” _But trust me, I_ will _find out._ Elia placed a kiss on the wolf girl's forehead.  “I have to go take care of something,” she said. “Please don't worry about Rhaegar anymore. I'm glad you're here with us.”

She felt Lyanna's eyes on her as she crossed the stone roofed bridge and disappeared through the narrow entrance on the other side that led down into the dungeons - down to where her husband was waiting for her.

She had already gone to see him once and asked him _why, why, why_ , but he had refused to answer her, so she had left him to think about his actions some more.

She slowly descended the stairs, feeling the air grow colder with every step she took. A final flight of stairs and she was at the lowest level. There was a soft groan from behind the closed door.

A smile crossed her face. _Why, let's see if he's willing to talk now._

 


	2. Rhaegar

The tips of his toes barely touched the ground. All he remembered was kissing his wives goodnight and going to bed early after the tiring journey back from Harrenhal. When he had awoken, he'd found himself suspended by his wrists, his body in agony, stretched by the merciless force of his own weight pulling down.

The fire in the brazier gave off a soft red glow, illuminating the cell, making his own long shadow flicker and dance across the wall. Everything around him looked unfamiliar: the tall black walls, the small alcoves cut into the hellstone, the faces of basilisks and manticores staring at him with their fiery eyes. He'd never been this deep down in the dungeons before.

Elia always liked to keep him waiting, but this was the first time he'd overcome his pride and called out to her in the darkness, begging her to stop her game, to lower him, to give him just one more inch so he could rest his aching toes and take the pressure off his wrists. That was before he had realized she had left him.

He couldn't say how long he had waited for her to return. It felt like days. Each time he dozed off, the chains around his wrists cut into his flesh, jolting him wide awake. His hands felt numb, as if they were no longer a part of him.

He heard her coming long before he saw the dim light of her torch flickering through the crack in the door, the clicking of her shoes echoing off the floor. Something scraped against the wall, making his stomach clench. He couldn't see her, but he could feel her eyes on his back.

“Elia.” He prided himself on the fact that he could take a lot of pain, but this was too much. His legs were cramping, and his shoulders felt as if they were on fire. “You've had your fun. Let me down now.” His mouth was dry, making it hard to form the words. He was shifting uncomfortably from one leg to the other, turning his head as much as his restraints would permit to catch a glimpse of her, but all he could see was her shadow on the wall.

“Did I give you leave to speak?” She yanked his chain up, leaving him kicking his legs helplessly in the air.

He had to bite his lips not to cry out. “ _Please_ , Elia. Enough.”

She was right behind him now, running her fingers through his long silver hair. “Not until you tell me _why_.” She grabbed a fistful and jerked his head back suddenly. “Why, Rhaegar, _why_?”

He stifled a scream. “What do you mean _why_?”

“You know _exactly_ what I mean. Why, Rhaegar?” The sound of her voice cut through the air. “Why did you have to humiliate me?”

 _This is about Harrenhal._ He'd seen a spark of anger in her eyes earlier when they had supped together, but he'd told himself it had nothing to do with him, that someone else must have displeased her. Despite his pain, he had to smile. _She's angry about Harrenhal._

Elia sighed. “Fine.” He could hear her steps behind him and see her shadow moving across the wall. _Don't leave me again!_ He thought. _Does anybody even know I'm here?_

But his fears were unfounded. The first lash caught him completely off guard – a crack and a stinging burn where the leather hit him. Elia enjoyed tying him up, and sometimes she liked to push his boundaries a little, see how much pain he could take, but he had never thought she would dare to _flog_ him like a common servant. His face turned red.  _She has no right..._

“Why?” The whip hit him again. And again and again. “Why?... Why?... Why?”

Elia was much stronger than she looked. He could feel the skin on his back break as tears shot into his eyes. “Stop! Elia, no! Please, let me down!” He was thrashing and struggling in the air, trying to get away from her, all to no avail.

The whip got caught in his hair, tearing out a strand with a painful jolt. His scream and the blood running down from his scalp over his face seemed to scare her enough to stop.

She paused, lowering him just enough so he could stand on his toes again before walking around him to take a look at his face. For the first time he could see her eyes. She looked a lot more tired than he had expected, the whip still in her hand.

“Why?” She asked.

He shook his head. “No.” _Not like this. You won't force answers from me like this._

“Oh, very well then.” She shrugged, putting the whip aside and turning around again. “Let's see if fire truly cannot harm a dragon.”

 


	3. Elia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since Rhaegar recently won himself the Westerosi douchebag award, I suppose he kind of deserves this :)

_No_. The answer echoed in her head. _No. No. No._ His sullen defiance annoyed her. But mixed in with the anger and frustration was excitement that she didn't have to release him just yet.

She took another look at Rhaegar, the well-stretched muscles on his stomach twitching, his pale skin almost begging to be burned and broken. He flinched as she ran her hand over his sore back.

 _You asked for fire and blood, so fire and blood you shall get._ The thought brought a smile to Elia's face. She had come to get answers, but that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy the process of getting them. _Breaking the dragon with fire... that should teach you some humility._ The longer she thought about it, the more she liked the idea.

Rhaegar was proud of his ability to withstand heat. He would always ask his servants to boil more water when he took a bath. But even the blood of the dragon had his limits, Elia knew, and this was as good a time as any to determine where exactly those limits lay.

She turned around abruptly. “You _will_ tell me why.”

There were more instruments hanging on the walls than she could count, each of them designed to inflict exquisite pain. Some were covered in dust, but others had been used more recently. _Interesting. Who would have thought they still kept a confessor at Dragonstone. I'll have to ask_ _Rhaegar about that some time._

She chose an iron rod and a pair of pliers, placing the rod in the brazier before picking up a glowing piece of coal with the pliers.

Rhaegar was twisting his body trying to see what she was doing, but strung up by his wrists, he could barely move, much less see what was going on behind him.

He let out a yelp and jumped up in surprise as she pressed the coal against the small of his back.

“I still remember when you were born.” She stepped around him so she could see his face, pushing the ember into his navel before drawing it upward. He was biting his lips, his whole body suddenly tense.

“I must have been three, at court with my mother. You were always crying, but when I held you, you would quiet down. It was like magic, your mother said.” She traced the muscles on his chest, lingering on his sensitive nipples, making him hiss.

She paused. “What? Is that too hot for you?”

It took him all his strength to shake his head. 

“Oh, good.” She returned her attention to his nipple, leaving a trail of fine black dust as she circled it. “Because I'd hate to see a dragon hurt by fire.”

She got a fresh piece of burning ember from the brazier and started singeing the hair in his armpits, watching as his eyes began to water. “Ah, yes, I still remember those years when you were little. Once you could walk and talk, you would follow me around like a puppy, repeating everything I said. What happened, Rhaegar? When did you stop loving me?”

He pressed his lips together, grimacing as she explored the insides of his elbows, his underarms, and his neck, mapping his most sensitive spots.

When she held the coal to his temples, he began to struggle again. “Don't! Not the face, Elia! Everybody will see!”

That made her laugh. _Ah, Rhaegar, I thought you were smarter than this._ “You mean just like everybody could see _you_ humiliate _me_ at Harrenhal? Trust me, you're a dragon. These burns will heal. And you have worse things to worry about than what people might see and will think about you in the meantime.”

“I'm sorry, Elia! I didn't mean to... Stop!” He tried to twist his head away from the ember searing his hairline.

“Last chance, Rhaegar. I've been gentle with you, but I won't be for much longer. Why did you have to make a fool of me?”

“I told you I was sorry, Elia. Just let this go.”

She lowered the pliers. “Fine.”

His relief was almost palpable – that was until he saw her reaching for the hot pokers. “Oh, gods, no, please don't-”

She pressed the glowing hot metal down onto his chest, holding it firmly in place, turning his pleas into shrieks. He was dancing on his toes, desperately trying to get away from the source of the pain. _So beautiful_ , she thought. _So perfect_.

“Just as I always suspected. The blood of the dragon is not immune to fire after all,” she said, a wry smile on her face as she pulled the rod away and placed it back in the fire. It had left a dark red mark on his skin. “Wishing you had scales yet?”

“You're enjoying this!” He cried.

He was right. For a moment, she felt almost guilty. _I ought not enjoy torturing my husband_. But he'd _smirked_ when he crowned Lyanna. “You brought this on yourself, Rhaegar,” she told him calmly. “Just tell me why, and this will stop.”

His lips twisted upwards in a grotesque smile. “I don't regret it. I'd do it again. That's all you need to know.”

Elia sighed. _I suppose you're making this easy for me._ She grabbed the hot pokers and spread his buttocks apart.

Pride and defiance turned to fear in his eyes. “Please, Elia, don't!”

But she had lost all patience with him. If there was one thing she had learned it was that he wasn't going to talk unless she raised the cost of staying silent for him. _You brought this on yourself_ , she thought as the sizzling metal made contact with the delicate skin between his cheeks. _Why can't you just tell me?_

 


End file.
